


A Leap Into Open Flame

by ratbat



Series: Chopster And Smolder Go Dancing [1]
Category: Original Work, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alien Culture, Angst, Arson, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bonding, Continuity Mash Up, Developing Friendships, Discussions of it really but, Fights, Gestalt (Transformers), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, Medical Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character-Centric, Original Character(s), Other, POV Minor Character, Partnership, Past Abuse, Power Core Combiners, Power Imbalance, Reaaallly minor lmfao, Sentimental, Sort Of, Stil; somehow; lol, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, The Decepticons Aren't Nice, Toy-only characters, Toy-only continuity, Transformers Spark Bonds, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unlikely Friendships, and neither are our heroes, headcanon heavy, headcanons, minicons - Freeform, mostly - Freeform, since i built this 'verse more or less from scratch lmfao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 05:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20148655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbat/pseuds/ratbat
Summary: When the nervous, paranoid minicon Chopster is assigned the hot-tempered, punch-drunk Smolder as his weapons partner, it seems like some sick practical joke, a disaster waiting to happen. Like pouring gasoline onto a stoking fire.But maybe, for once, the ensuing ignition is to his advantage, and everyoneelse'sproblem.





	A Leap Into Open Flame

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he trailed after his new “partner” to their quarters. “Quarters” deserved to be in quotations too.

They had walked all the way down to the end of the barracks hall and kept going. And going. And going, to the point Chopster was starting to fear this was leading up to some elaborate prank (or “prank” rather) at his expense. He nervously teeked Smolder’s EM field only to be greeted with the same thinly-suppressed rage pulled tight to his frame. Hundreds of nasty things the bulk might have lined up for him passed through his processor, though most ended in his injury or demise and were therefore unlikely.

The most probable conclusion was that his new “partner” was already sick of him and he was about to be locked in some box or storage closet for a night. Just as well. He'd never had a night to himself outside of playing lab rat, and the thought of being actually by himself for once, even trapped, almost appealed to him. Besides...Smolder scared him. Chopster didn't really look forward to sharing an enclosed space with him. The longer _ that _ was put off the better.

So when they rounded a corner and reached a dead end, and a storage closet door loomed at him, Chopster only flinched a very small degree. He'd figured, and curse him he was still scared even though he'd already figured, but he had at least already determined he could handle it. At least it wouldn't be a surprise. Hed had just about enough of those for today, hed thought to himself. 

Too bad, he was in for another. Smolder didn't make a grab for him. Instead, he tapped some buttons on the panel, but the door didn't open. He didn't fly into a terrible rage at this so Chopster could have only assumed he was expecting it. Smolder then pried the door open with his servos, a terrible scraping noise echoing into the hall. 

Chopster backed away, rethinking his peace with this situation.

Smolder reached into the closet, and a clicking sound was followed by a dim flickering light illuminating the space. He stared into the little compartment and sighed. 

He didn't seem to be in a lunging mood, so Chopster risked a small step closer. Smolder’s EM field had shifted somehow, in a way Chopster couldn't identify; _ softened _ almost, and Chopster couldn't decide if that frightened him or not.

Curiosity eventually trumped all his nerves, and he took a full step forward to peer into the closet.

It was, indeed, a closet: it had some stuff stacked in the middle of it, and on top of the junk was balanced a recharge slab not seemingly firmly attached to anything, and on top of that a ratty mesh blanket, pulled across it only sort of neatly. 

Smolder gestured to...it, his emotions not particularly readable.

“Well...here it is.” He didn't bother dignifying what lay before him with clarification. 

Chopster took another couple of hesitant steps towards it. 

Oh, this was so much worse than he thought it would be. There wasn't really enough space for one bulk, even of Smolder’s size, let alone both of them. Moreover, there was no place to distance himself from Smolder. Or to hide.

He swallowed, and covered it quickly with an inane comment, “they got more soldiers than rooms, huh? After all this time? Thought it would be the other way ‘round.” 

He cringed immediately after speaking, but Smolder barked a laugh. For a moment, his field was actually more amused than angry or repressed. 

“No one’ll bunk with me.” he grunted.

Cold travelled up and down Chopster’s spinal struts. He didn't need to ask why, but he did anyway.

Smolder snorted. “‘Cause everyone in this fraggin’ army’s a fraggin’ coward.” His plating flared. “Wouldn't be a problem if some people learned to shut the fuck up, keep their servos to themselves.”

Chopster chose to respond with just a nod.

Smolder said nothing for a while. Then, he leaned into the doorway. “So here's your options: floor” he gestured to the tiny space between the berth and the threshold, “or we share. I don’t give a shit which, person’lly.” 

And with that he climbed onto his makeshift berth. It groaned as things shifted around, but remained stable.

Chopster stared, weighing his options. The floor wasn't completely unappealing. He was used to the floor. The floor was safest. 

He glanced up at the berth, a little longingly. He'd never slept on a real berth, despite the fact that this one barely qualified. Even that dull, holey blanket looked almost inviting. 

He glanced back at the ground, thinking about how little space there was there. About how it put him directly within pede range. 

He scrambled up to the berth. 

Smolder leaned over him and he flattened himself, plating digging into his protoform, but Smolder was only yanking the door closed. Well, as closed as it would go anyway. Then he swung his pedes over the side of the berth, making Chopster jump and nearly lose his balance. Smolder only pulled himself to the other side of it, however, and proceeded to ignore the minicon altogether. 

Chopster decided to take that time to continue getting onto the berth. It was a bit too high, but the junk it was piled on made it easier to climb.

Easier, not easy. Not with his accursed, awkward limbs the way they were. The hollowed-out cabinet and boxes it housed rattled as he tried to keep ahold of them. 

Servos reached out for him and he yelped, losing his balance. They grabbed him and he keened, curling into himself, muttering apologies.

He was lifted, but met with a soothing EM field as the servos set him down on the berth. It took him several kliks to register that the field belonged to Smolder. Chopster hasn't been sure he was even capable of other emotions besides anger and a stoney coldness barely reigning in that anger. It took him another to realize he was unharmed, and likely would remain that way.

That's when another fear hit. Maybe the “berth or floor” choice had been a test. Maybe Smolder was seeing this as him accepting some kind of invitation. 

He backed into the corner of the berth nearest to both the door and Smolder’s pedes. Better to be kicked than grabbed again, in that case. 

Smolder shifted, and Chopster thought about leaping off the berth and running, maybe trying to burrow into the junk pile or wrenching the door open, but the bigger mech didn't make a move to retrieve him. In fact, he moved away from Chopster, further into the corner of the closet space. 

His field had returned to cold on top of anger, but the undertones were softer. Maybe he was just too tired to keep being furious with everything and everyone. 

He reached under a thin, stained mesh cushion and brought out a little bundle. Chopster started, tracking every motion with increasing anxiety. Smolder set it down between them, shoving it slowly in Chopster’s direction. Then he pulled his arms to him chest and rolled over, flipping the light off.

Chopster switched to his night vision scope and investigated the bundle. He gave it a little prod, only to find it soft and unassuming, just as it seemed. He reached over and shuffled it about until it came undone.

It was a mesh blanket, equally ratty and dull, but clean. And small, a little big on him but around the right size. Perfect for wrapping around himself. And in the center of the blanket, he discovered something he didn't recognize. It looked like a mesh pillow but far too small, made out of worn, faded materials he'd never seen before. He poked it. It was...soft. Even without proper servos he could tell that. Soft and springy. 

He pull it to his chestplates, then to his faceplates. It smelled like cleaner he didn't recognize. It had bizarre notes to it, compositions that were distinctly alien but all too familiar. It was woefully soft. Sparkbreakingly soft. Hed never felt anything so soft in his life. 

Hed also never had anything of his own before, and this was clearly a gift. It was possible he would be expected to pay for it later, but it was still _ his. _He could feel the coolant teasing at his optics, and he did everything in his power to keep it right where it was.

It scared him, what this might mean. He glanced at Smolder, who already seemed to be in the clutches of recharge. 

This behavior was unpredictable, _ Smolder _ was unpredictable, and he didn't know what to make of it.

He held the pillow close to his flaceplates again. It smelled sweet, like borax and alien plants. 

He guessed he could deal with this all in the morning. The blankets seemed awfully soft themselves.   



End file.
